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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29770023">an evening in</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/estellabymoonlight/pseuds/estellabymoonlight'>estellabymoonlight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>friday night, saturday evening, sunday morning [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Downton Abbey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>As A Treat!, Coming in trousers, Domestic, Fluff and Smut, Gentleness, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mark my words he can smile as sweetly as he likes, Not many people tell our guy Thomas he's doing a great job, Praise Kink, Richard knows what he's doing, Sensuality, They're soft and married, This man is probs a little shit, Wonderful bastard man, and also do thomas, as a treat, he's trying his best, possibly??, so Richard can do that</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:55:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,344</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29770023</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/estellabymoonlight/pseuds/estellabymoonlight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They'd agreed on a quiet night in - part of that comes true, but if they'll end up being quiet is another story.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Thomas Barrow/Richard Ellis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>friday night, saturday evening, sunday morning [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2280899</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>an evening in</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So this movie had shown up a few times in my reblogs and I got bored a couple weeks ago and watched it and omg, these two were so sweet ;-; hope you enjoy!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had started as a quiet evening in. Sometimes of a Friday they liked to go out and see a film, at the Electric Theatre if Richard was feeling nostalgic - it was the one he'd been to when visiting his family a few times, and the one he'd taken a beau to some years ago ('<em>I'd like to continue with that pattern,' </em>he had whispered to Thomas while they waited for their tickets, and it was a wonder the usher hadn't commented on his blush) but on occasion they went to the Grand - if it was showing something different to the Electric, or simply because it was on Clarence Street and they liked to laugh about the name as they went past. Richard always did his Harry Barnston impression when they did - and the usher at <em>that </em>cinema probably had to try not to comment on Thomas looking like he'd been in hysterics. </p><p>But it had been a long week at work, their respective jobs keeping them late and causing them to barely cross paths until they were collapsing into bed to fall asleep immediately, and this was the first night of the week they'd actually seen each other all evening. Thomas had been reluctant to go out, somehow - he enjoyed the pictures, he really did, but he also knew what it was like to miss someone dearly when you lived in the same house as them, and so when the topic of what to do on Friday came up, he had averted his gaze and mumbled something about wanting to do something where he could have an actual conversation with Richard and look him in the face, spend time together. When he had dared to look up again for half a second, he had found that Richard was softly beaming at him.</p><p>
  <em>'Of course, love. I'm glad you said so. Missed you all this week, feels like.'</em>
</p><p>Which had led to the situation he was currently in.</p><p>They'd had dinner, sat on the sofa with the wireless softly playing, fire built up - it was October, after all - just talking, shoulders leaned together in a line of warmth and shirts over skin. They had played a game of criss-cross, propping the game on the coffee table, and Thomas had read Richard something funny he'd found in the paper on his work break. After a while they'd gone back to just leaning close to one another, and that was when Richard's hand - which had been resting comfortably on Thomas' knee for a while - had begun to slowly slip up his thigh, following the crease of his trouser leg. Thomas had by no means protested, nor particularly wanted to, rather pleased with where things were going. The first squeeze to his inner thigh, made when Richard's warm hand had nearly reached the vulnerable fold where thigh met groin, made Thomas shiver, delighted. He'd exhaled a soft little puff of breath, and though he faced determinedly forwards he had a feeling that Richard was probably grinning like a Cheshire cat, all pleased with himself. </p><p>Then Richard had begun <em>rubbing</em>, little circles massaged into Thomas' thigh with the flats of Richard's fingers, and he wasn't sure why such a simple motion made him want to groan low in his throat. 'Alright, love?' Richard had softly said, close to his ear, gently teasing, and Thomas had to nod stiffly as he got his breath back.</p><p>'Course. Bloody Splendid.'</p><p>Richard's left arm snaked behind Thomas' back and his hand curled around Thomas' hip, thumb smoothing it a few times before just gently squeezing him closer. Richard leaned in. 'Good,' he said, before starting to softly kiss the pale stretch of Thomas' arched neck. A rush of affection rose in Thomas' chest, just as other feelings rose in other places when - finally - Richard moved his hand further inwards. Thomas' trousers had gotten rather tight, more so now as Richard cupped him and massaged there too, slightly less softly than his thigh. Thomas <em>squeaked</em>, clutched the arm of the sofa in a clawlike grip as he blushed. He hadn't even realised he'd grabbed it in the first place.</p><p>Richard chuckled, and kissed his throat, up to his Adam's apple. 'Love your noises,' he murmured. 'Sound ever so sweet for me, don't you.'</p><p>'Sod off,' Thomas tried, weakly. 'Smug, you are.' His thighs were clenching, on and off, knees knocking together when he strained for more friction. His hips were giving little twitches occasionally, betraying the unimpressed act.</p><p>'I might be.' His voice was almost a croon. 'Hard not to be, when I've got the most gorgeous man in Yorkshire half in my lap, letting me give him a nice evening.'</p><p>'Nice evening,' Thomas smirked, 'is <em>that </em>what we call it in the North.'</p><p>'Actually, that would be the Yorkshire hello, but I can see how you'd be confused.'</p><p>Thomas snorted then, turning his head to rest his forehead against Richard's while his shoulders shook. 'You-! Ever the bloody pedant, you are.'</p><p>'That's me.' Richard still sounded far too pleased with himself, if you asked Thomas.</p><p>'Sorry,' Thomas said after a moment, 'didn't mean to change the mood.'</p><p>'Quite alright, love.' Richard - his hand was <em>still moving</em>, God, how did he still <em>do </em>that while Thomas was there laughing like an idiot - was beaming again, like a muted version of the sun. Warm enough to soothe, but not bright enough to blind. 'Nothing more I like than hearing you laugh.'</p><p>'Not any - mmf - other noises you prefer?'</p><p>Richard pretended to give it some thought. 'Plenty,' he settled on. 'And I like them all terribly much. But hearing you so obviously happy's what I love most.'</p><p>'Well, whatever noise I'm making,' Thomas murmured, draping his nearest leg over Richard's, 'I assure you that I am that. Very.' </p><p>That was how they ended up changing positions, Richard moving forward in a surge to match his affection to gently push Thomas to lie on his back on the sofa, thighs bracketed by Richard's knees as he lay panting slightly, gazing up at Richard as if awestruck. He <em>felt</em> a little awestruck. They'd been together plenty of times by now - it had been closer to ten years than not, after all - and whatever the form it took, each time seemed to feel even better than all those previous. Just them, together, wanting to make the other happy, enjoying the other making <em>them  </em>happy. </p><p>'Good,' Richard murmured into his mouth before kissing him softly, one hand on his flushed cheekbone and one stroking under his jaw. 'Brilliant.'</p><p>'Me or my answer,' Thomas said lowly, smirking. </p><p>'Both,' Richard was stroking his cheekbone with his thumb, 'but - you, if I have to choose. Especially you.' </p><p>Considering it had happened before Thomas shouldn't have been surprised at his own reaction, but he always was - if he'd been told twenty years ago that anyone would have this affect on him through their approval and words alone he'd have scoffed at them, likelier than not. He made a noise not too far off from a keen, cupping the back of Richard's head for something to hold, hips leaning upwards to try and nudge against Richard's. There had been a twitch in his groin at the words, and he was throbbing now. </p><p>'Easy,' Richard murmured, smoothing his left palm up and down the side of Thomas' neck again. 'We've got time, got all the time in the world, haven't we, love. Because someone suggested we have a nice evening in, have an actual conversation, look me in the face. <em>Spend time together</em>. It was awful clever of you to think of it, sweetheart. I'm glad of it.'</p><p>Thomas raised his eyebrows, hoping the expression offset the effect of the rest of those sentences on him. 'I'm starting to think you planned this,' he said dryly, trying not to pant between words. Richard had barely touched him there yet, how the hell he was so affected he didn't know.</p><p>'Only starting? I thought you were far cleverer than that, love.' </p><p>He wasn't sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult, but any potential replies went unthought of, because Richard's hand had left his collarbone and travelled southwards. A deft hand unzipped his trousers, and after a moment was closed gently around his cock as it was pulled out. Thomas whined, trembled, pushed his hips upwards as Richard slid his thumb over the head, back and forth in a somewhat maddening motion. 'Fuck. Richard, please, I - please - <em>fuck</em>.'</p><p>The hand from Thomas' neck had moved to stroke his other cheekbone, and somehow it felt just as intimate as the hand on his cock. 'Easy, Thomas,' God, Richard was so <em>soft </em>with him, just soothing and coaxing in a way that might make Thomas bristle if it were anyone else but didn't because it was <em>him</em>. 'Got plenty of time, haven't we. Could have you here for hours, if we wanted to, couldn't we.'</p><p>It wasn't even <em>I</em>, it was <em>we </em>- as if even when Richard had taken charge he wasn't the only one <em>in </em>charge. Thomas trusted it more than he had many things in his life. '<em>Fuck,</em>' another buck of his hips.</p><p>'Nice as that sounds,' Richard's hand was moving around him in gentle strokes, easing the pleasure out of him like it was a thread to unspool, like it was film and Thomas was the reel, 'I was thinking of something a bit more relaxed tonight. Been tired out, haven't we, so I think we ought to stay right here and take things slowly. Sound good?'</p><p>'Sounds - <em>ah</em> - sounds lovely,' at some point he'd looped his arms around Richard's torso, he had no clue when - but it was solid and warm through Richard's shirt, something to hold onto, although Richard never left him feeling adrift in the first place. </p><p>'I bet it does.' Richard's hand was still moving, firm and slick as he leaned his forehead against Thomas', whose hips jumped into a few teasing rubs at his slit, a quick, almost-reassuring squeeze of his balls. 'Doing lovely yourself, Thomas, just a little bit more. Moving along so nicely. Nicer than any film I ever saw.' He seemed to think of something at that. 'Will you see <em>Rembrandt </em>with me, in a fortnight? It's meant to be ever so good.'</p><p>Thomas made a frustrated, half-whining noise in the back of his throat. 'Of course you're back to the cinema in the middle of this.' </p><p>Richard looked near-shamefaced. 'Sorry - just reminded me.'</p><p>Thomas sighed fondly, let the corner of his mouth tick upwards. 'No need. Sweet when you get distracted, even if it does make you at least twenty minutes late home every day.' He shifted, seeking friction, and Richard added a twist to his hand movement that was <em>very </em>nice indeed. 'As if you have to ask. I'll see any bloody film you like with you.'</p><p>Richard twisted again, watching Thomas' features scrunch in pleasure, the movement of his hips tighter and more coordinated now that the end was on the horizon, a goal to work towards. 'See if you say that <em>after </em>I've finished what I'm doing.'</p><p>'S'not <em>conditional</em>, I'd still do near anything for you when you're not bringing me off, you daft- oh <em>God, Richard,</em>-' </p><p>'Alright,' Richard soothed, 'alright. S'alright. Little further, darling, little more. Anything else you'd like?'</p><p>'This,' Thomas breathed, 'just this, thanks, this is perfect, you're- <em>ah-</em>'</p><p>'Message received.' Richard was still smiling, wide and fond, and leaned in to kiss the corner of Thomas' mouth. 'Love how you talk to me, darling. Love when you tell me just what you want. That you feel like you <em>can</em> - want, and ask.'</p><p>Thomas turned his head to try and kiss Richard back, but pleasure had made him clumsy, and he kissed Richard's chin instead, felt a chuckle vibrate through Richard's chest. 'Don't have to laugh at me,' he manages despite feeling like his lower half is on fire, 'tried, didn't I.'</p><p>'Would it lessen the sting,' Richard said, expression amused but placating, 'if I said I'm laughing because I love you.' He chose that moment to do another sly hand movement that honestly nearly tipped Thomas over the edge. </p><p>He couldn't answer for a good minute, caught up in feeling breathless and wonderful and <em>good</em>. 'It might do,' he gasped softly, 'yeah.' </p><p>'Good,' Richard said. 'Because I do. You're perfect for me, y'know.' </p><p>Thomas was sadly unable to answer for a while, because then he was coming, working his hips against Richard's hand as he eased him through it, easing off when it was too much and letting Thomas catch his breath. Everything was pleasantly fuzzy at its edges, Thomas' eyes nearly-closed in bliss, and he felt Richard smoothing a lock of hair away from his face. 'Thanks.'</p><p>'For which bit?'</p><p>'All of it.' He forced his eyes mostly-open to look Richard in the face. 'Mostly for you being you.'</p><p>Richard's expression became even more pleasantly soppy, and after cleaning them up with tissues from the box on the table he shifted from his position to lie atop Thomas, working his arms under Thomas' torso to hold him properly as Thomas tucked his face into Richard's neck and breathed him in. 'Could say the same for you.'</p><p>They lay there awhile, warm and satisfied and together, and then Thomas shifted one leg, bending it so it pressed firmly up between Richard's. 'I think,' he half-purred, 'that I'd quite like to show my affection for you similarly, Mr Ellis.'</p><p>It was Richard's turn to blush, caught off-guard now that things had settled. 'You don't have to, darling. Not about getting it back.'</p><p>'Don't you worry. I want to make you feel as good as I did, because it's you - not fulfil an obligation.' Thomas looked self-satisfied already as he got Richard to shift off him and leaned over his lap. 'Besides. I'm sure I'll think of something we'll both enjoy.'</p><p>'<em>Rembrandt, </em>the Friday after next?'</p><p>He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. 'Of course that too, you silly man.'</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Fic Fact: Criss-Cross is actually Scrabble - the inventor, Alfred Butts, tried out several different names for the game and this was one of them. It wasn't actually named Scrabble until after the failing game was rescued by James Brunot in 1948. And yes, boxes of Kleenex tissues were a thing in 1936 - I was surprised too!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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